


Crux

by Tsula



Category: Iron Man - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Hiccups, Humor, Limey, Nonsensical trash fic, Romance, Some Fluff, silliness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-06
Updated: 2016-12-06
Packaged: 2018-09-06 19:58:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8767009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tsula/pseuds/Tsula
Summary: “Having trouble?” You’d know that bemused voice anywhere. Normally it filled you with all sorts of pleasant sensations, but you were much too irritated to be happy he was home. Especially since he sounded so damn amused. 
“What do—” the spasm in your chest was so close to pain you cringed. “—you think?” Your tone was sour and he snickered a bit in response, though he did have the decency to look a little bereaved. Just a little.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Something cheesy and meh that I've had in my revision folder for freaking ages... Finally tired of it being there, so here ya go! xD
> 
> One steaming pile of ridiculousness in the form of Tony Stark.

"God damn hic-cups!" You hissed with a grimace as yet another one interrupted your angry outburst. 

They came out of nowhere and didn't seem to have any plans of leaving anytime soon. It had been an ongoing nightmare for almost half an hour and you were so sick of it you didn’t know what to do with yourself anymore. 

You took several long steady gulps of soda—as water and tea had done as much good as the deep breathing—and waited. As the seconds passed without any response from your diaphragm you started to feel hopeful. 

_Hiccup._

You nearly threw the glass across the room—this was ridiculous! 

“Having trouble?” You’d know that bemused voice anywhere. Normally it filled you with all sorts of pleasant sensations, but you were much too irritated to be happy he was home. Especially since he sounded so damn amused. 

“What do—” the spasm in your chest was so close to pain you cringed. “—you think?” Your tone was sour and he snickered a bit in response, though he did have the decency to look a little bereaved. Just a little. 

He offered you a glass of scotch with a bemused sort of grin that had you torn between slapping him and kissing him. That smirk was absolutely irritating and yet so damn attractive it was just unfair. It was the kind of heart-stuttering grin that could let him get away with murder. 

You tried your best to ignore it and just accepted the drink with a harried sort of desperation. Frankly at this point you’d try _anything_ to make these hiccups go away. 

The first mouth full of scotch seared its way from the tip of your tongue all the way to your stomach, the second one tingled, and the third slid down smooth as could be. It probably would have been easier to just sip at the drink like a normal person, but you were so frustrated and tired you just wanted to get it over with. At least if it didn't work you'd be drunk and uncaring that much faster. 

He made no comment on this and kindly refilled your glass before he took a seat on the nearby sofa. 

You lifted it up to your lips and paused to wait for the next painful hiccup before you guzzled down another round. Counting it off in your head 'one Mississippi, two Mississippi,' and so forth you managed to reach all the way to ten without a single hiccup. The relief of this was so profound and must have shown on your face judging by the triumphant grin that Tony wore when you looked his way. 

Such was the extent of your relief that you didn't even call him on it and just enjoyed that pleasant giddiness that bubbled up in your chest. You sat your empty glass down and stood up. He opened up his arms still wearing that dashing grin and you sat right in his lap just as he suspected. 

You plucked his own glass out of his hands and set it aside on the end table. With his hands free he decided to put them to good use pulling you closer before rolling you both to the side so that he had you pinned beneath him on the couch. You slid your fingers across his strong shoulders and up into his soft, stylishly messy hair. 

He kissed his way across the swell of your breasts until—

_Hiccup._

Both of you froze and you slapped a hand over your face right as he looked up at you torn between exasperation and amusement. 

"Hand me the booze." You muttered in despair. "I'm getting fucking hammered." 

He smiled against your chest. "That's a nice way to put it."


End file.
